


Salt, Spice and Nothing Nice

by dragonsoup



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 13:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6755584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsoup/pseuds/dragonsoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All's fair in love and war. And this was war (or something).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt, Spice and Nothing Nice

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash for this ship and the fact that there were no M&M videos released by KXIP this IPL officially makes IPL9 the worst one ever.  
> Please excuse any mistakes, I wrote this yesterday to avoid doing my assessments.

It isn't so much that Glenn Maxwell hates David Miller - because hate is very strong word to use - it’s just that David Miller is a smug bastard who needs to be brought down a peg or two. Now if Glenn needs to compromise certain work ethics in order to do that, then that is a sacrifice he is willing to make. It all begins when David Miller wanders in oh so carelessly into the cafe during Glenn’s shift, leans against the counter and cheerily says, “What’s up Smackwell Maxwell?” as if they aren't mortal enemies.

 “Well. If it isn't Killer Miller in the flesh,” Glenn replies, curling his lips in disgust, “What do you want?”

 David raises an eyebrow, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. “Just a regular cappuccino. One sugar. Extra hot to go.”

 “That will be three fifty. Anything else you want, other than to suck the life-force out of everyone and everything?”

 David merely chuckles as he retrieves a black leather pouch from his pocket and empties its contents onto the counter. Glenn stares on speechlessly. David had put down exactly three dollars and fifty cents onto the counter. Three dollars and fifty cents made up entirely of five-cent coins. Seventy five-cent coins that Glenn has to count out by hand so he doesn't get fired - all because David Miller is a massive pain in the butt. Glaring at David is ineffective - he’s too absorbed by whatever is on his phone-screen to care.

Glenn spends a few moments clenching and unclenching his fists while slowly inhaling and exhaling to control his growing rage. David is incredibly lucky that the morning rush for coffee is over well before ten am so there aren't really other customers to deal with or Glenn might have just killed him on the spot. With one last glare in the direction of the oblivious David, he compromises by dumping in two spoonfuls of salt with the coffee.

 “Oi, your coffee’s done.”

 David finally looks away from his phone. “Thanks.” Smiling devilishly as he picks up his coffee, he adds, “Can’t wait for tomorrow.”

 Glenn snorts. “Yeah, can’t wait to get your arse kicked.”

 David smirks, then walks away with a wave. Glenn waits with bated breath for him to take the first sip of his coffee. Just as David is about to open the door, he does. Glenn can’t see his face, but he can see that his back immediately tenses up. David whips around, his expression uncharacteristically stony. “Problem?” Glenn asks, suppressing a smile. David slowly chugs down the remainder of his drink, without once breaking eye contact with Glenn, then crushes the paper cup in his hand.

 

 

Glenn isn't entirely sure when the intense dislike he feels for David took a hold in his heart. He just remembers the first time they had met two years ago. It had been two hours before Glenn was going to play in a club match for his university against their arch-rivals. Glenn was at the pitch early to warm up. David had also been there and introduced himself as an international student from South Africa who loved cricket and surfing. Glenn shudders to think he had considered David a nice bloke at the time. Then Glenn discovered that David was playing for his arch-rivals. David then proceeded to absolutely smash Glenn’s bowling around the ground for boundaries, ultimately winning the match for his team. Perhaps it had been the smug smile at the end of the match when he’d come up to Glenn and said oh-so-sweetly, “Good game. It was nice meeting you today, Smackwell.” that had cemented his feelings for the South African. The insult of being called ‘Smackwell Maxwell’ still clawed at his insides and he’d vowed to crush David ‘The Killer’ Miller by any means necessary.

  


An hour before the match starts, both teams enter the field to begin their warm-up. Not that Glenn particularly cares, but he can’t see David anywhere on or off the pitch. Even the captain, David Hussey, notices his absence.

“No Killer Miller today?” he asks the other captain, his older brother Michael.

“Nah, he’s sick. Food poisoning or something.” Something lurches in Glenn’s stomach.

  
  


It’s been a week since Glenn’s team had won the match. He thought he would be happier, but it doesn’t really feel like a win. Not when he caused David to get food poisoning and miss the match, thereby ruining any chances he had of obtaining a fair win. Glenn waits glumly at his shift in the cafe for any customers. It takes him by surprise somewhat, when David walks in.

“Hey,” Glenn greets softly.

“Hey,” David replies slowly. There is an awkward pause, “I heard you absolutely smashed us last week. I knew I called you Smackwell Maxwell for a reason,” David continues

“Thanks.” Glenn wants to apologise, but somehow the words get stuck on his tongue. “So...what would you like?”

“A regular cappuccino, to have here. Oh and don’t worry about the sugar, I think I’ll add it myself this time.” David winks.

“Don’t worry about paying,” Glenn says when David pulls out his wallet, “Today’s order will be on the house. I don’t want to count any more coins. And...I should probably also apologise for giving you food poisoning last week.”

David raises an eyebrow, as if waiting for Glenn to say ‘psych!’ or something but when that doesn't happen he begins to laugh. Glenn hasn't heard David genuinely laugh before - cheer and scream yes, but never a laugh like this. It’s a nice sound.. “No wonder you were being nice to me today. I just assumed it was because you’d finally matured.” David wipes away a tear, “But thank you, that’s sweet of you.”

Glenn pretends he didn't just hear his mortal enemy call him sweet, but it’s hard to hide the blood rushing to his ears and cheeks. “You can sit anywhere I’ll bring your order over,” he mutters and moves to hide behind the coffee machine.

“You know you didn't give me food poisoning. I can handle my salt.” David says when he brings over the order. “It was my brother - he’s visiting from South Africa. I don’t know what he decided to cook for dinner last week but obviously it wasn't edible.”

Any sympathy Glenn may have felt for David flies out the window. “And you couldn't have told me this before? So I wouldn't have been racked by guilt for a week? And then offered you free coffee - which was going to come out of MY paycheck by the way!”

“There’s the Smackwell I know and love.” David grins. “The salt was still a pretty dick move though. I don’t think free coffee would have cut it as an apology anyway. How about a free dinner instead?”

“What?” Glenn responds wittily. “Dinner? Like a...date?”

“That depends. Do you want it to be?”

Glenn pauses for a second to really take a look at David. The blond boy is still grinning up at him, but there’s a nervousness in the way his eyes can’t seem to stay still as he looks up at Glenn. “It wouldn't change anything you know. I would still kick your butt in the cricket.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.”

“Okay, it’s a date,” Glenn grins.

**Author's Note:**

> I really did once pay for my coffee with ten and twenty cent coins. I genuinely thought the guy at the counter was going to kill me but I only had silver coins left and without caffeine in the morning I'm an absolute monster. It was a kill or get killed kind of scenario.  
> My brother once said that he wanted to prank his school's rival cricket team by spiking their fruit juice with lots of salt. Basically I put these two ideas together and gave birth to this mess.


End file.
